The Revenge Job
by Challen Evergreen
Summary: I hope it hasn't been so long you forgot about our lovely Amarantha and Eliot. This is the sequel to Broken Heart Job. Once more Mara is being thrown together with our thieves. This time she isn't there to help Nate, they have to help her. Well then, an independent girl like her, needing help... This is going to be fun. Can Be Read Alone.
1. What Happened Before

_Eliot. _

It read.

_You're a good guy, I always knew it. I finally understand why you did it - don't beat yourself up about it because I'm grateful - it taught me a lot. Last night might have been better than before, actually it was, there's no might about it. _

He laughed at that little line that was so... Mara.

_Anyways, we both know if you want to, you could find me anywhere on Earth - especially with the help of that team of yours. So I guess what I'm trying to say is maybe we'll see one another again. Until then, live life to the fullest and stop blaming yourself for every bad thing you've ever done._

_I love you._

_Amarantha, your Mara._


	2. Jumped

_She hadn't seen the man in seven months, and yet she was being tortured for information on his whereabouts. How... moronic. Were these men really so stupid as to think that she'd go threw six months of torture and never divulge her secrets, but two idiots who's only form of persuasion was money or their fists was going to break her. Yeah, definitely morons. Hell, the only reason they'd gotten the drop on her was the one had come at her like a common thug, leaving the other to come up behind her when she was distracted and hit her with a two-by-four. Which still hurt, mind you._

"_So, you ready to call him yet?" The one she'd christened Stubby - because of his stubby little sausage fingers - demanded._

_She didn't look at the idiot man, she looked straight threw him._

"_I thought you said you could break her easy." Streaks - because of the three slashes across his cheek, clearly a result of an improperly treated knife wound - said sullenly._

_She snorted at that, the first noise she'd made the entire time they'd held her captive. Then, she spoke. "You honestly believe that two crackpot thugs for hire like yourself can break a woman that killed off half the Russian Mob after six months of torture?" She asked with another snort. "Not in your dizziest day dreams."_

_Streaks glanced to Stubs and then they both grinned rather maliciously. "Well then, if we can't break her, let's use her to send a message." Streaks said with a snarky little smile._

_Stubs took on the nasty little grin. "Lets." He agreed. "If we can't get her to bring him out, we can send her to him."_

_The red-haired female sat silently before them, refusing to let fear invade her at the thoughts that clearly shone through these two men's eyes. Voice as strong as steel, cold as ice, and mean as a momma bears snarl came out of the little woman. "I will only warn you once; I am no one's victim."_

_Both men's eyes widened in terror at the woman's words. _

_They lashed out in anger, but never once did they contemplate anything but a beating for the woman. For her eyes held something beyond a threat. In that little woman's eyes held a promise of pain the likes Hell couldn't dream up. And even though the two men knew they were capable of handling just about anything that came their way, they weren't so sure they could deal with that promise. _

_Once they were threw working the woman over, they hauled her unconscious body out of their little concrete room and drove her to the place that held their client's target. _


	3. The Team

_At precisely 01:15 A.M. the occupants of an apartment above a little known - and closed down – bar in Portland, Oregon where awakened by the sound of a doorbell, quickly followed by the stench of burnt rubber as someone hauled ass out of the vicinity. _

_The first to arrive at the door was one Sophie Deveraux, a woman with many names, and even more secrets. She was the one in the group who stepped in when one of the team needed a pick-me-up, a cool-down, or a sympathetic ear. Many thought of the woman as a cold, hard Grifter who cared for nothing but her latest target, but the woman actually held a large capacity of empathy in her feminine frame. This was why, when she came upon what had been left on their doorstep, she couldn't hold back the scream._

_Behind her, and coming fast, was Nathan Ford - their sometimes over-zealous Mastermind who kept all of his funky little patchwork family safe. He was a broken man, or he had been before four little criminals came along and kicked his ass back into shape. Yes, he still missed his beautiful little boy, but he knew his son was watching him help innocents and smiling that sweet little boy smile in pride._

_After Sophie let loose with a scream, it came as no surprise that the next person up and out the door was a woman by the name of Parker, for her there was no last name. Sometimes someone would tack on The Thief, but for those who loved her, it was just Parker. This woman was an... Enigma. She was crazy, there was no doubt about that, and her priorities were a little screwed up, but there was nothing she wouldn't do for the four people she'd come to care for, just as there was nothing she wouldn't do for the man who'd adopted her as his own. Yes, sometimes she did or said things that made the rest of the team look at her like she was crazy, but she knew that they loved her for her idiosyncrasies, just as much as for everything else about her._

_The last to reach the open door was Alec Hardison, Hacker extrodinar. Alec - or Hardison as those in his patchwork family called him - was a twenty four year old genius with a laptop and problems with authority. If that didn't spell trouble, then you were looking in the wrong dictionary. Hardison loved what he did; hacking into secure systems was one of the few things in life that gave him a thrill, that and a petite little blonde with a love for lock-picking. There were few things he hadn't seen in their line of business, so he was more often than not able to control his emotions. But the sight before him brought a prickling behind his eyes and a knot to his throat. _

_Luckily Eliot wasn't here... but that brings us to our final player. Where in the world is that boy? Normally he would have been at that door the minute he heard a strange engine pull up to the back of the apartment complex. So where was he?_

_Eliot Spencer, Retrieval Specialist. He was the Hitter of the group, the man who took protection of his team to a level few understood. But then, how could someone understand the need to keep safe the few people who'd never betray or walk out on him. For a man who'd known so little love and comfort - and the bits and pieces he'd retained over the year had always come at a price, not only for him, but for those he allowed to love him - it was really no surprise that he would be so vigilant with those he loved._

_So once more... where is he? Though I suppose wondering will do no good. No, instead we shall move to the... package sitting on the doorstep._

_The package was a woman who, when standing, was only five foot two inches. She had long auburn curls that dominated her face and trailed lazily down to her waist. Set in a face that made one think of a fragile porcelain doll was a set of the clearest green eyes. She had honey and cream skin and a rather curvy body for one so short. Unfortunately the group couldn't see this; for her eyes were closed, her hair matted with blood, and her skin black and blue and red from the various injuries. They only knew the previous information because they'd last seen the woman seven months prior. _

_What they knew about the woman before them wasn't much, but it was enough to know that she meant something special to their Hitter, which meant she was important to them. Amarantha Trail was a woman who'd stolen the heart of a man few would face off against. Everyone in the little group knew that once he found out, he'd be out for blood, because no one hurt what Eliot Spencer cared about and got away with it._


End file.
